The 2 Christmass'
by Scribbles111
Summary: Harry comes down for christmas, leads to a few secrets getting beaten out, and then the horrid family invite from Sherlocks parents. Oh I wonder what could happen! Slash lovers and haters would like!
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, I love this story! Haha, this one I actually do! Modern Sherlock Holmes! Ok, it's not a slash, but it gets mentioned quite a bit! At the end they discuss it, but then it goes wrong! Funny! Ok, Harry comes to stay, then they go see Sherlocks family, and it snowballs as I'm sure you can believe!**

**Disclaimer: I'm never gonna have it :'(**

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It was just another normal day in 221b Baker Street, well, as normal as they go. John was typing up there last case on his blog, The adventure of the Engineer's Index Finger, when the phone rang. Sherlock leapt to his feet and grabbed the phone, leaving the sofa to try and regain its shape before he leaped upon it again.

"Sherlock Holmes." He said as he held it to his ear. John glanced over to notice it was his phone that rang, not Sherlock's. He got up to get the phone but Sherlock just turned around, refusing to hand the phone over.

"Sorry he's not in at the moment can I take a message? Yes ... That's no bother ... how about next Wednesday? ... Great ... I'll see you then! ... 3 o'clock maybe? ... Sure, Good bye now." He said as he placed the phone in John's waiting hand.

"Your sister is coming down for Christmas. You got the time and such I'm sure." He said as he plunked himself back down.

"Sarah is going up to Ireland to see her brother that day, I'm helping her get ready and take her to the air port! I won't be here!" He said as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly as he curled back into his boredom ball. John huffed a little as he walked away to his room. If Harry was going to come over, he better tidy the place up...

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The time had rushed by, and Sherlock being Sherlock, saw nothing wrong with the flat. He put his papers away into a box and put the worst of the experiments into the fridge, but that was it. Nothing on display that was bad (the skull had been super glued to the mantle place now by a very fed up Sherlock) and the place was dusted and hovered. Tidy. Sherlock sat in his armchair scrolling through John's blog as he waited for the latter to arrive.

He had gone earlier to send Sarah off, the night before in fact. Sherlock knew why he had gone earlier, and he was so gonna bring it up in front of Harry, but he sat peacefully for now. He heard the car pull up out front as he closed down his tab, closing the lid down. Johns heavy foot falls could be heard racing up the stairs as he placed the laptop to charge.

As John came rushing in, expecting to see some piece of furniture charcoaled or missing, he missed the fact that Sherlock was once again fiddling with his computer. He went straight to the kitchen as Sherlock placed his hands in his pockets, looking around himself as if searching for the same thing John was.

Certain that he hadn't messed up the flat in his absence, John turned to the smirking detective, ready to rattle off a list of things he is not allowed to do, mention or act upon whilst Harry was here, knowing that a head appearing in the freezer again was sure to make her ring some sort of legal department, when the buzzer rang. He shot a meaningful glare at Sherlock as he moved over to the intercom.

"Harry?"

"Hey! It's me, let me in!" She squealed down the line. John sighed as he pressed the button. He forgot how annoying she could be sometimes.

Sherlock turned around to face the door, a smug smirk plastered on his lips at John's obvious reluctance. Then Harry came bustling through the door.

Her hair was a sandy brown, shoulder length and sweeping behind the shoulder. She had a long fringe as well that joined with her hair. Her face was much like John's, but her eyes where a calm brown and a mixture of fun. She was quite short and was quite curved. Her clothes where simple, a pair of worn yet modern jeans, a long t-shirt, a bright crimson and some simple American style sneakers. She wore simple make up, natural and barely there, but it was the stuff you get free with magazines. Over all she was a very pretty woman, nice, but like the rest of the world, nothing different.

Sherlock, knowing that John was about to snap at him to, leant over the back of the sofa, retrieved one of her three bags (the woman was only staying two nights! Honestly!) to take to her room. She squealed and flung herself on John, who patted her back as he tried to step away.

"Oh John I haven't seen you in ages! How are you? Are you alright, I read your blog, is everything ok?" She asked as she stepped back to view her brother more.

"I'm fine, fine, everything's ok. This is Sherlock Holmes, my flat mate." He said as he waved at the disappearing figure that was Sherlock. A muffled hello could be heard as he went to dump her bags in her new room. As he came back out into the kitchen, he spotted a bottle of Rosé on the table. He knew John was keeping it away from his sister, so he hurried to put it in his room, knowing that the rent would be in danger if he allowed her to drink it.

Harry led John over to the sofa, but he sat over on his chair, keeping some distance from her. He sat down as she looked around the room. She barley paused as she saw the skull, still looking around her. However, she did pause when she noticed the smiley face in the wall.

"Err, what?" She asked as she waved at it.

"Never mind, Sherlock was bored." At her strained expression he moved on, "Anyhow, how's Claire after the divorce?" he probed. He had an excuse to ask. He had been away and only heard little bits from her letters.

"Oh, ugh, she keeps emailing me saying she misses me and all that crap. Hardly! If that was true, she wouldn't have kissed her would she! So I don't care anymore. She had her chance, she ruined it. She's living with her mum now after I kicked her out. But enough about her, tell me about the psychopath Sherlock Holmes?" she said as she leaned forward, her elbow on her knee and head in hand. Her expression was pained as she talked about her ex. John knew that this was the part where he takes the conversation another way, for Harry's sake, but he didn't exactly like the thought of talking behind Sherlock's back. He knew the super sleuth would find out every word he said, which wouldn't be that good!

"Well, he's handsome, witty, extraordinarily intelligent, a sociopath not a psychopath and standing right here. How's that to start you off?" Sherlock said as he came in, scratching a stain he had found on the bottom of his shirt. Harry sat back in her chair, a small blush creeping up her cheeks at being caught gossiping.

"Drink?" He asked as he looked up from his stain. John sighed. He told him last week he needed to wash that shirt or it'll be ruined. He had obviously "forgot" to wash it.

"Err, yes please, do you have any red?" She queered. John put his hand over his eyes. Trust Harry.

"I'm afraid not, we gave Sarah our last bottle for her trip." Sherlock lied smoothly. John let out the breathe he had been holding unconsciously.

"Oh, I'll have...hang on, I bought a bottle with me to celebrate you coming home and your new man John!" She said as she dived into her bag.

"NO! I mean, no, we aren't like that!" John said as he jumped forward, almost off the chair.

"No, never, I'm sort of married to my work. Never." Sherlock said as he stood straighter in the door frame.

"Yeah, I'm dating Sarah, but she's gone to visit her brother in Ireland, so you can't meet her." John said hurriedly, babbling along as Harry looked between the two of them. She handed the bottle silently up to Sherlock as he retreated to the kitchen again.

"Right, strong reaction to that!" She said as she settled back in to the sofa.

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**Reviews? Plzzzzzzzzzzzz**


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock returned seconds later with three glasses full of red wine. He handed one to Harry, and took one for himself, leaving John with the other. John frowned at Harry opposite him. When he picked the glass up he saw a note underneath it, he grabbed it and read it as Harry took a large drink from her glass.

"Watered hers down."

He smiled as Harry made a face at her wine. Sherlock stared intently at his wine, as if measuring it for something. He sighed and placed it on the table in the middle, having decided it's not worth it. He wasn't going to go back there just to seem normal. John started at him quizzically Sherlock stared pointedly out the window. Harry also stared at the strange behaviour of her host.

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"Sherlock, you alright?" John asked as his friend finally looked at him. He had no emotion on his face.

"Yes." He simply stated. He did not wish to divulge his past drinking habits with John's sister present. John stared at him a little more, his glare saying that this will be resumed later. Sherlock simply stared back as Harry sat there, completely flummoxed at the situation folding out before her. She coughed slightly to get back to a normal conversation.

John's face was puzzled and Sherlock's was guarded. Great. Harry smiled and stared at Sherlock, trying to look sweet and seductive. She never usually tried this on men but it could get her what she wanted.

Sherlock couldn't help but think with that expression she looks like a snake about to bite!

"So, tell me about yourself Sherlock, I know hardly anything about you." She said as she stroked his sleeve. He fidgeted uncomfortably at her unwelcome touch.

"My name is Sherlock, I have a brother in the government called Mycroft and I solve crimes for a living. That's all John really knows about me, give or take a few facts." He said with a quick smile. She pouted and scouted closer to him. Agh. She is also is a bit of a flirter. As she draws closer, Sherlock makes other connections. Her wedding ring was elaborate, fancy, the mark still there from her sunbathing. Claire was a rich girl. The smell of lynx lingers on her skin, so she obviously didn't pay for her taxi. Wow, John's sister is a slut. Nice. Sherlock shifts further away from her on the sofa as she slides ever closer. Ugh, not fun.

John, seeing the scene play out, decides it's time to intercept.

"So, let's all go out for tea then yes? You must be hungry after travelling all the way up here?" He says to his sister as Sherlock pops up, as if he was being squished between to objects. John jumps up too to try and hide Sherlock's hasty jump for it. He grabs his jacket as Sherlock wraps his coat around his shoulders. He runs down to hail a cab as Harry pulls her jacket over her shoulders, a simple cream one. John's stern gaze makes her falter.

"What? Oh come on, even you have to admit he's hot! Plus, I'm not a lesbian, I'm bisexual! I can like him if I want to!" she said as she floated down the stairs. John shook his head at his sister and followed her down. He wasn't inclined that way, but Sherlock wasn't the ugliest bloke he'd ever met, he'll hand him that, but hot, no, never would he admit that!

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**A/N Ok, maybe I think he's nice lookin and made it biuse, but I'm sure you agree! Ok, I am HORRIBLE at the Sherlockness analising bit, so appologise!**

**13**


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at the little bistro just after four. It was Christmas Eve and everyone had gone out for the night. Sherlock sat down in the far corner and glanced over the menu. John slid next to him, stopping Harry from getting to close and showing some unwelcome attention. Sherlock smiled slightly and whispered a silent thank you to John, who simple smiled in return. Harry slid opposite of Sherlock, as she too looked over the menu. John knew what he wanted after seeing the specials board. The waiter came over and asked for their drinks. Harry ordered another bottle of red, so John asked for three glasses so she wouldn't drink the whole thing. Sherlock tensed slightly at the number three, but he didn't say anything. The waiter came back a few minutes after, and poured three full glasses. Sherlock took his and stared at it again, weighing it all up. John took a small sip and placed his glass on the table again as Harry downed hers in one. Sherlock still sat starring at it.

"Sherlock?" John asked as he glanced at him, he barely moved, but he bought the glass up to his lips, closed his eyes tight, and then tipped the glass back and swallowed it all. Ugh, he's gonna regret it later. Sherlock looked up and half grimaced and half smiled at John and Harry.

"What? I'm fine, so what where we saying?" He asked as he reached for the bottle. John grabbed it before he could and placed it under the table by his leg, guarding it from both of them. Sherlock slowly with drew his hand and shook his head as he smiled tightly at John. He looked over at Harry and quickly delved into a story with her, trying to forget the taste of the wine.

Eventually, John had to put the bottle back on the table, where Sherlock and Harry quickly finished it. Their meals had been paid for and finished, so they were ready to go home, but a rather drunk two some wanted to stay for longer. John sat there and grimaced as Harry decided to flirt a bit again.

"So, tell me about you Sherl, what's your biggest secret?" She said seductively as she stroked the palm of his hand. He just laughed at the feeling and got up, pulling John and Harry along with him.

"Where are we going?" She laughed as he ran along, towing them behind.

"To my own quiet haven!" He roared as he darted between late night Christmas shoppers. Very late he mused.

They eventually ran into a quiet park outside of the city centre. He ran to the giant fountain in the centre and leaned over, letting the water splash his face. He laughed louder than John had ever heard him laugh before, truly exuberant.

"Merry Christmas London, may it royally suck!" He bellowed as he pointed at the Buckingham palace. Harry laughed as she splashed him with water from the fountain. Sherlock spun drunkenly around and caught the water face on. He made a small squeak as he splashed her back. John ran on to stop them from getting to wet when suddenly he froze in his step. Harry had walked around and had planted her mouth firmly on Sherlock's very startled lips!

Sherlock, who was initially frozen in terror, wrapped his arm around her neck as she grabbed his hair. John, who never saw Harry kiss anyone except at her wedding, and never even thought of Sherlock like this, was frozen suddenly in shock. They broke apart for a second. This is all it took for John to stop this madness! He leapt in and grabbed the pair by the wrists, pulling them back to the highway. He hailed a cab and sat in the middle, stopping them from talking. They sat in silence, but occasionally one of the pare would giggle or sigh or drunkenly roll their head onto John's shoulder. When Sherlock did it it scared him the most.

When they got back to Baker Street they walked up the stairs solemnly. It was Christmas morning, the bells having rung out during Sherlock's cry earlier. John stopped to lock the door as the others raced up the stairs. He walked into the sitting room to find a shirtless Sherlock making out with his sister. Not what he wanted to see! He grabs Harry and takes her too her room as Sherlock looked around the room stupidly. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, points her to where her stuff is and leaves, also locking the door. He does the same to Sherlock, just minus the kiss, and heads to his room. He never knew that Sherlock had earlier hidden the wine in his room, or that the apartment wasn't "clean"...

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**A/N Ok, there is no more Sherlock/Harry in this, that's it really, so sorry if you're a fan of it, and if you're not, then no worries ;p **

**If you are offended by drug use or anything like that, I don't think it's that bad, but that might be because I wrote it, but if you are, then don't read the next chapter, it's only a small one! I wouldn't class it as bad, but it's best to put a warning! ;p**


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was first to awaken, her fist repeatedly hitting the door, trying to get out. John picked up the newspaper and cup of coffee off the side and headed over to her door, key in hand. He unlocked it to find a very disgruntled Harry. Her dressing gown was a towelling yellow colour and was getting to short. Her slippers where simple slip on's, grey with use. And her hair...well, birds nest springs to mind.

She trudged out, took the coffee and took a large gulp, and slipped the paper under her arms. She wobbled off to the front room as she grumbled a faint "Hello." In John's direction.

"Merry Christmas to you to!" He said with a smile. He sighed and headed off to Sherlock's room. Time to wake the sleeping beauty!

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**A/N Shorter than I thought...So...I'm gonna put another up now! And I got it wrong, the drug use is mentioed in the NEXT one, so again, if you're extremly sensitive about it, no read, but it is really badly written and such so yeah, I don't want to get sued for not warning people! **


	5. Chapter 5

He knocked on Sherlock's door five times and left a cup of tea outside his door, not knowing what he has to get over a hangover. He walked back into the front room to see Harry almost zonked out on the sofa.

"I tried to stop the two of you, it was near to impossible!" he said as he sat on his chair. She cringed into her coffee at the thought of what she might have done when drunk around Sherlock, who, apparently, wasn't in the best of shape either.

"Come on, what did I do, tell me." She said as she bent her head down and sat up straight in the chair.

"Well, you ran half way across London; to Sherlock's "secret den" that was actually some random park, then you snogged Sherlock if you want to say it like that, I dragged you here, then you made out with Sherlock, and then I locked you in your room. Simple as." John said as he took a sip of his tea. Harry had gone awfully pale during his speech, and he couldn't help but smile into his cup. She picked up the remote and put "Day Break" on as they waited for Sherlock to appear.

They had waited for ages, so John hailed himself up and decided it was time to go see what was up. Harry followed close behind him. He knocked again and called softly, but there was no movement. He unlocked the door and peered in. It was a simple room, papers all over the floor, a double bed pushed against the wall, a wardrobe left open in the corner. A bed side table. But John held perfectly still as he stared in. All over the floor was glass. Wine bottle glass. So were bags of white powder. Please no. John ran over to the still form of Sherlock, lying on his stomach by the bed. He rolled him over onto his stomach and looked into his eyes, the pupils where dilated and disappearing. A laugh bubbled out and escaped from Harry's lips as she took in the unlikely scene before her.

John knew she wasn't being disrespectful, that is what most people do when faced with trauma. With no idea what emoticon to show, they laugh. Well, it's better than screaming the neighbourhood awake!

John quickly tested his pulse, weak, and barley there, but it was still there. He rolled him flat and popped him up using pillows as he went to find something to help him gain consciousness. Right, he heard somewhere a cold shower would wake someone up. He ran to the kitchen as Harry just slid down the wall, going into hysterics. She didn't know he was still alive, but John didn't have time to comfort her. He rushed back into Sherlock's room with the water in hand and threw it at him. Harry made a small scream at the sudden jerk of Sherlock, but caught her breathe as he looked around, sopping wet and still in his pjs. After seeing an out of breathe John and a Harry curled on the floor, he simply huffed and slid down, as he mumbled an I'll be out soon.

John was pacing inside the small sitting room whilst Harry drank her next cup of coffee on the sofa. She had calmed down now, more relaxed as she understood. Sherlock came out of his room, dressed in his shirt and trousers like normal, a jacket on his arm. He had his sleeves rolled up as he meandered over to his collection of patches. He was about to stick one on his arm when John came up behind him. Sherlock sighed as John took it out his hand and put it back in the box, closing the lid.

"Don't you think you have enough chemicals in your system already?" He asked as he put the box under his chair. Sherlock rolled his sleeves down and went to stand by the window. Just as he was pulling the second one down, John came up behind again and looked down at his fore arm, at the little track marks. Sherlock pulled it out of his grip and finished buttoning up the cuffs, his mouth a straight line

"You going to explain?"

"No."

"What! You think it's alright to put drugs and alcohol into your body and then not talk about it after I SAVED YOU LIFE!" John fumed as he walked over to the wall.

"I'm sure you already know, but it's my life John, I'm going to live it how I please." He said as he looked away.

"Your life? Of course it is! But I am your flat mate! I'm your friend! Do you really think I'm gonna let you die because you decided it's your life! Are you insane?" John fumed! The fear of being arrested and Sherlock dying was making him angry. He knew he should be more concerned on how his friend acquired it, or how he got that drunk, but the fear he was trying to control was also trying to escape.

"Oh shut up will you! And merry Christmas!" Sherlock yelled as he flung his hands down in frustration. Sherlock's simple exclamation that it was Christmas seemed to lighten the mood. A proper giggle erupted from Harry's lips as John was left speechless. Small smiles creped onto Sherlock's and John face as Harry's laughter became contagious

"Merry Christmas to you to!" He said as he went to sit on the armchair.

Harry jumped up and ran to her room, who came back quickly with a bundle of presents in her hands.

"I didn't know what you liked Sherlock, so I got you a bottle of cider," Harry began, but at the glance they both sent her, she continued, "but I think I'll swap your presents round now.." she said hastily, swapping the labels around.

She handed the bottle over to John, who smiled and said thank you, already planning ways to destroy the thing before the terrible twosome got their hands on it.

A rectangular box got handed over to Sherlock, who took it kind of awkwardly. He shook it slightly and sighed, guessing easily what was in the flat box. He took of the annoyingly perky wrapping paper and looked at the box of cluedo. You have got to be kidding.

"A detective game!" He said with well rehearsed fake enthusiasm that only John could see through at the moment. He sent his friend a disapproving glare, trying to convey that Harry wasn't that rich and the fact that she got him a present was amazing, but of course, Sherlock didn't see that.

"We can play it later!" She exclaimed whilst jumping up and down clapping her hands. Oh brother.

John handed her his present, a t-shirt Sarah had helped him pick out. Sherlock had disappeared into his room, trying to find something worth giving. He emerged a few minutes later with a small black, velvet bag. It was beaten and worn, but he handed it over without a second glance.

Harry poured out its contents into her palm, and she sucked a shocked breathe in.

"It's...lovely!" She exclaimed as she examined the necklace in her palm. It was a thin golden chain, a really thin and fiddly one, with a small pearl in a little extra piece of thread, so it would hang in the hollow of your throat, a small chocker. Sherlock cocked one side of his mouth up, barley impressed by the small garment.

"Sherlock, where did you get that!" John said in shock of where such a gift came through.

"I had a friend once, she left a lot of stuff so I put it in a box and thought it might be useful. I give one to my mother and sisters each year. You can have another if you want." He said to Harry. She declined the other, totally in love with the one she had round her neck.

"You have a sister?" John asked as he stared at the unlikely figure in front of him. "Sisters. Two, called Morgan and Jayne. Morgan's the oldest. And two brothers, Cameron and Mycroft. It goes Cameron, Morgan, Mycroft, me and then Jayne." He shrugged as if every family is that size. John shook his head, wondering how Sherlock's parents managed to survive with all them in the house. Harry was thinking along the same lines when suddenly Sherlock's phone rang. It was ringing. Ringing though, not texting.

"You have to answer it." John said, pointing at the phone. Sherlock was against that idea though it seemed. He stayed where he was though, eyeing the phone as if it was some dangerous beast.

"Sherlock, now!" John snapped as the noise started to get on his nerves. He picked it up, answered it and through it at Sherlock. He caught it in the air and put it straight to his ear.

"Mother." He said straight out, the reason for him avoiding the phone call. He walked off to his room with the phone stuck to his ear, the woman on the other side having needed no more introduction to get talking than his simple greeting.

John was about to move onto a much more dangerous topic of what to do for the day, especially since Harry would love to drag them to some sort of bar at some point of the day, and, apparently, they have to keep Sherlock away from that sort of stuff, so obviously dangerous when Sherlock came back in, looking horribly depressed.

"My mother has invited us all down for Christmas dinner. You don't have to go if you don't want to, but I do, so yeah." He said miserably as he collapsed onto the sofa.

"Ok, I'll come, but just for the food." John claimed, but he knew the truth. He was curious. Who was this family that had managed to keep both Mycroft and Sherlock in one piece for god knows how many years, as well as keep them under the same roof? Sherlock smiled wryly at the doctor, already guessing at his motive.

"You're welcome to Harry, god knows that, I tried telling her I can't come because you're here but she said to bring you along." He sighed heavier at the apparent annoyance he held reserved especially for his mother.

"Sure, if that's alright." She said quietly. Sherlock nodded and got up to get changed into another outfit.

"You have to dress smart, or posh, or nice whatever!" Sherlock said in frustration as he walked off. John got off the sofa to get changed, closely followed by Harry.

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**A/N So, plzzzzzzzz review and sorry for any errors as usual ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

They all emerged a few minutes later, Harry in a long pale yellow dress, thick shoulder straps which had a built in belt around her waist, allowing it to flow down the rest of her body. She had her hair brushed lose. It sounds posh, but it was really just a casual dress. John wore his dark green sweater and jeans, throwing his leather jacket on his shoulders roughly. Sherlock came out in another purple silky looking shirt and black trousers. He grabbed a jacket to as Harry grabbed a small bag.

Sherlock quickly hailed a cab and they all got in as Sherlock threw an envelope to the cabbie. He opened it up and his small eyes widened in shock at the £20 notes concealed.

"What's all this for!" He asked in alarm.

"See the address; it's far away, so I'm paying you to drive there." Sherlock said slowly, as if explaining this to a three year old. The cabbie grunted and nodded as he drove off, shoving the cash in his pocket.

They arrived a little after twelve. It was a large country house, with all the shaped hedges and mazes in the background. One that makes you go w-o-w! Sherlock got out and walked up to the door as if the place was common as muck. John and Harry had a rather different reaction however. They stood with their mouths agape as they stared at the giant house before them, the kind made out of old beige stone. They followed an impatient Sherlock up to the door, and seconds before they pressed the button, the door opened. In the doorway where two women. One was quite petite, small and thin, but had long red hair down to her waist, elegantly curled. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans with trench boots and a simple green long sleeveless t-shirt. And she was insanely beautiful, from the high cheekbones to the emerald eyes, full lips and straight nose, she was beautiful. Also heavily pregnant. Her companion was similar to her, but a lot taller, like Sherlock. She had long black hair also curled. She was wearing a floral print dress, lose fitting but elegant. Her eyes were also an emerald green. Her dress was a bright orange, red and yellow, making her seem somehow taller.

"This is Jayne," Sherlock said as he waved at the short red head, who was now wrapping her arms around her stomach, "and this is Morgan." He said at the other.

"Oh Sherlock I haven't seen you in ages!" Jayne said as she enveloped her brother in a very one sided hug. He eventually wraps one arm around her awkwardly as she steps back. He gets assaulted again by Morgan, another awkward hug. Eventually they get ushered in and they heed to the dining room by the front of the house. How many dang dining rooms are there in here!

They eventually reach a rich ornamental room. The floor was carpeted with rich golden rugs and there was rich oak furniture. Maybe they where millionaires, or billionaires, or...trillionaires? Looking at the area. On the side, covering the majestic fireplace, where tiny figurines all in a neat order. Sherlock noticed John staring and stage whispered "Whimsies." Over towards him. John nodded absentmindedly as he stared at the tiny tortoise on the end. It had a larger companion next to it, exactly the same but the shell came off to reveal pins and sewing necessities. The small tortoise looked as pout of place as him. He was made out of the same material the company Wade used. The same size and rough design, but he was different, because he matched the larger tortoise. It was also looking in another direction to the other animals. He followed its large oval eyes towards a door on the other side of the room. The foot of it was open by a jar, and a small piece of paper stuck out.

John frowned at the offending paper and started to walk towards it. Sherlock stuck his hand out and shock his head, obviously a warning.

Sherlock meandered over towards the door as if the minni confrontation they just had was nothing.

He wandered through the door, leaving a very out of place Harry and John. Bustling in through another door was a set if three people. In the lead was Mycroft, tall, suited and booted to the nines as ever. Also, strangely he had his umbrella indoors, leaning gently on it as always.

Following closely behind was another man, his hair straight and long, chin length, like a surfer. It was a lighter colour than the rest of the Holmes clan, more a brown, like Mycroft's hair colour. He had a thin leather band round his neck, like a woven necklace, and his trousers where well worn, not shabby, it was a designer make of jeans, but a little faded round the knee. He had a simple white shirt on, left untucked, but it had an elaborate swirl in the bottom corner, like the sewing machine had had a minute of inspiration. He wore simple flip flops that seemed to match and compliment the outfit. He was more tanned than the rest of the pale Holmes'. His face was like a younger Mycroft, less lines, and more ruggedly handsome. He was an obvious surfer, his manner radiating control over the waves. Also the way Mycroft seemed to edge away from him every few minutes, like his mundane life bored him. Cameron, he guessed. A woman was close behind him, and John new instantly, she was the reason he was here.

She was slightly bent but stood tall, her black hair wrapped up in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her features where more sharp, straighter and more angled than the others. Her clothes where simple, yet beautiful. She wore black trousers, straight and not fitted, and a white shirt, covered by a jacket. Her clothes where similar to Sherlock's, the suit but no tie. She was a very beautiful woman, proud, strong, and she seemed to radiate some sort of power, as if she could endure anything, and still be strong enough after to yell at you for getting mud on the carpet.

A smile cracked her face as she saw her guests.

"Hello, you must be John and Harriet. My name is Marian; I'm Sherlock's mother, as well as this lot. That's Cameron and Mycroft who just came in with me. Where has Sherlock gone, he is here?" She asked, even though the answer was obvious, and could be answered by any of the other girls in the room; it was as if she was demanding an answer from John.

"Oh, he just went through that door." He said as he pointed towards it.

"Agh yes, he would have wouldn't he." The woman sighed as she stared after the door her son had supposedly used. "He always does this. Mycroft that is." She said as she cast a watchful eye upon her eldest.

"It wasn't me mummy, I have grown above his childish pranks." He stated, sighing and leaning forwards on that ridiculous umbrella.

"Alright, own up, which one of you have set it up this time." She declared, staring pointedly at each of them. A small chuckle escaped Cameron's lips as his mother's death glare was set on him. He then went deathly pale.

At this point, Sherlock decided it best to re-enter the room.

"Oh, sorry, did you think I was really going to follow that?" He asked as he nodded his head in the direction of the door he had just left, his hands casually in his pockets.

"No, I set it out for Jayne actually, seeing if the pregnancy was messing with her skills." He smirked, a mild accent in his voice.

"Anyone could have gotten that! John did even!" Sherlock said as he strolled over towards John, he gently pushed him forwards. He nudged him with his shoulder as if he was simply walking past, having to turn to fit past, but there was space for him to have not bumped into him, so John followed, and Harry followed to, still feeling a little annoyed at being called Harriet.

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**A/N MERRY CHRISTMAS! Only two more chapters so shall I update all of them now before christmas or update after crimbo? You tell me plz! And happy Christmas Eve! And tomorowe Merry Christmas!**


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock went to sit at a chair and then pointedly glanced at the two next to him, showing the pair where to sit. John sat in the middle of them, still amazed at the size of the place. He hears footsteps coming up behind him, and he turns his head to see another man and woman enter; the man is average height, not tall like this family. His hair is a sandy blond, kept and neat. His clothes where a simple blur t-shirt and posh jeans, with some designer shoes. He walked up to Jayne, who was now wandering over to a seat of her own. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders as they wandered over.

"Oh, Sherlock, this, here," She said waving at the man next to her with an affectionate smile on her lips, "Is your future brother in law, Ryan. We're engaged!" She screamed excitedly as she planted a firm kiss on his lips, "Oh, and before you start rattling things off in your oh so big brain about a convenience marriage, he is the farther, and we were engaged before I even knew I was pregnant." She said as she settled into her chair, her hands still around her stomach.

"Well, I should say congratulations, but I think good luck will settle here!" He said with a quick smirk, glancing between his glaring sister and her fiancée. He suddenly turned to the side, shoving his knees into John, who let out a small ow, at the shock of it, which was quickly followed with a large bang from underneath the table.

John looked at Sherlock's smirking face as he turned his legs back to the table, who was smirking intently at the now disgruntled Jayne, who was trying unsuccessfully to massage her toe which she had banged in her attempt to kick Sherlock.

"Do behave, father will be here soon." Mycroft drawled as he wandered over to his perch at the table. Cameron simply came up behind him, thumped him on the shoulder and laughed whole heartedly at his brother.

"Oh grow up Mycroft, just because your older doesn't mean you can boss us around Mycroft." He said as he wandered over to another woman in the door way. She was shorter than everyone in the room, her hair a bleached blond, left to grow long and wild. It had been braided and tied back into a pony tail. Her clothes where pretty, simple, yet well worn. They where flare jeans, covering the bottom of her threadbare gladiator sandals. Her shirt was sleeves and was a bright yellow with blue flowers on. It was close fitting but flared a little at the bottom. Her skin was tanned and her eyes a piercing blue. One of the sexiest surfer chicks he had ever seen John thought. She smiled and edged over to Cameron, and suddenly her golden wedding ring was the only thing he could see. Cameron also was sporting one he noticed. She leaned up on her tip toes and kissed him on the lips, her eyes dancing. She stepped back after and noticed the newbies.

"Hey, my name's Arra, but you can call me Arie." She said with a thick American accent. She extended her hand to John who shook it, and she proceeded to Harry. She smiled at Sherlock who did his usual smirk back. She danced over to her chair, pulling a smiling Cameron along. They sat in there seat at the same time that a man, who John was sure was Sherlock's father, walked in.

He held his head high and demanded respect; simply by checking the time on his limited addition watch, a Rolex, I'm sure. He was tall and thin, yet he had a muscular build that Cameron had adopted, and Sherlock had lost, taking the height. His suit was well tailored, black and pin stripped, making him appear thinner and taller. His shoes where shined to perfection, squeaky clean and also hand stitched. Floorless. His hair was grey with age, and, even though he knew better being a doctor, John suspected stress with this large family before him. It was combed back, neat, tidy, and not one hair daring to escape the style. His features where strong and in place, daringly handsome. His eyes were also a startling blue, electrified.

Everyone straightened up and the carless manner that had filled everyone, making it a comfortable room, despite the elaborate decor, vanish in seconds, making it a room of rules and restrictions. Even Harry sat up straighter and put her napkin out upon her lap. Mycroft stood and shook hands with the man, a smile well trained for meeting such intimidating men upon him. The man stared at him, no smile to greet him, and shook his hand in return.

"Congratulations on your promotion, head of national defences and attack, I'm proud of you." He said as he clapped him on the shoulder. Mycroft seemed shocked at the openness even!

The man went over to the head of the table. Sitting next to him on the long rectangular table was his wife, to his right, who was seated next to Sherlock, then John, Harry and Morgan. On his other side, his right was Mycroft, Jayne, Ryan, Cameron and Arie. A family dinner. Laced with tension to make it even more Christmassy.

Arie seemed nervous at her end of the table, but Cameron was calm and laid back, not touched by the mood. Sherlock was also a little strained, seeming eager to hide behind his mother and go unnoticed by his father. Ryan and Jayne where sitting quietly, acting polite and yet still a little uncomfortable to the common tension in this room. Mycroft was acting high and mighty, trying to make it seem normal. Morgan was almost as relaxed as Cameron, but she sat a little straighter.

"Who's this?" He questioned staring at Harry and John with those electric eyes.

"Father, this is John, my college and flat mate, and Harry, his sister. Mother said to bring them along so I did, well...yeah." Sherlock finished lamely as his father's gaze hardened and glared. "This is my father, Jason Holmes." He said as his father's gaze flickered to them. Sherlock shrank back as the man smile turned from mocking to simple.

"So, an army doctor. Shame what's happening in Afghanistan isn't it?" he asked of John. Panicking at how he knew all that, especially how Sherlock hadn't got the country, he tried to grasp at straws. Then he remembered who he was talking to. A Holmes.

"Horrible, just, horrible. Um-m, this is Harry, my sister, she is a journalist down in Cardiff, what's your opinion?" He asked shifting it to a now uncomfortable Harry. He spared her a small smile before tucking into his meal.

It all, however, kicked off after the meal had been eaten.

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**A/N Ok, considering putting the next chapter up NOW, what you say?**


	8. Chapter 8

His father leaned forward in his chair, his head on the tips of his fingers as he pressed them together, a typical Sherlock move.

"So, Sherlock, I never knew you could go as low as your brother and sister. I never thought you would come to much, but you could have tried. Dating a man, I thought you would never be open with it, I knew it was in you but honestly-" he was suddenly cut off as John again flapped about over the issue.

"We aren't going out, we just live together! Honestly, it's not like that! I swear!" John said as he put his head in his hands. A small smile spread across every ones but his and Sherlock's lips. As John sat there, a thought came onto his mind. So Sherlock's father has always detested him, and he now hates his brother and sister, guessing Morgan and Cameron, seeing as they are showing him little to no respect. Nice family this is.

"What, so to you I'm just a disappointment waiting to happen!"

"Yes, you are an unpaid detective; you live with another man-"

"It's not like that!"

"How dare you interrupt me? I am talking to my son!" He yelled at John. John's eyes widened in surprise as the man stood up in anger.

"Don't yell at John! He hasn't done anything-"

"And you do not contradict me in-"

"Hell, I'll do what I like!" Sherlock stormed out throwing his napkin down. John got up and marched after him, quickly followed by a very quiet Harry.

Jason just sat still, continued with his dinner as if nothing had happened. And, this did happen every year, so to them, nothing had happened...

"He always has to do it doesn't he! He has to push me down, compare me to Mycroft! Treat me like the filth on his ever so wonderful new shoes! I hate him!" Sherlock seethed as he paced up and down a small room in the back of the house. Well, it was a large room, but the clutter of books, magazines, news papers and photographs on the floor and side made it somehow smaller. There was a small battered table in the corner, a desk with fitted cabinets. There where stickers of superheroes on the sides, ranging from superman and spider man. They had writing on them, covering their faces.

_Bitten by radioactive spider, real nam- _the writing was to squished to be read. It was the same for the other heroes, little notes on the lives, one a fan would know. The little wheezy computer was also covered, but in sticky notes, from difficult maths equations, to scientific formulas. The wall was covered in cork, a giant section behind the computer. It was covered in notes too, holding more sums and formulas. There were also notes all over it, like mini stories that had been written and stuck there, from lack of space. Some were typed out and stapled to the wall, annotated and coloured. Essays. More paper clippings adorned the wall, murders, suicides, also containing notes.

The rest of the wall, of which was partly visible behind the book cases and posters, was a dark blue, a simple colour but nice, gentle on the eyes. The carpet was a darker blue and singed in places, from where chemicals had fallen and left there print. The room was tidy, but the clutter failed to allow it to appear so. There was only one explanation.

This was Sherlock's room when he was younger.

He flung himself down on the old chair, burying his head in his hands.

"I'm not some stupid child." He grumbled.

John was not used to seeing a Sherlock deflated like this, so he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed an upside down chair and straddled it next to Sherlock, leaning his arms on the back, head on top. Harry got up to go to the toilet, leaving the pair to think.

"Sherlock does this normal-" John started, but Sherlock beat him to the punch.

"I don't want to talk about it." He said. He waved his arm as he sat straighter, then to lean back on the chair. "Ugh, they always do this; expect me to be everything to disgrace them. And even if I were gay, it shouldn't shame them!" He stated as he threw his hands in the air.

"Everyone seems to think we're together." John said with a sigh of his own.

"It wouldn't be so bad if we where maybe, just to get the others off our backs." Sherlock said, sliding down his chair, his mind oddly numb.

"Sure, we would have to kiss and I would have to leave Sarah, but that's the worst, and that wouldn't be so bad, you aren't that bad looking, we wouldn't go any further."

"Unless we wanted to, and that would be our choice, and you aren't half bad yourself."

"Thanks. I mean, it would stop the whispers and such, and, I mean, come on, if I wasn't with Sarah, I might look at you a bit more."

"Same, it doesn't matter that we are male, both of us, we go together."

"So true." At this, Sherlock and John stared at each other, and slowly leant forward. As their lips were centimetres apart, about to brush, the conversation caught up to them.

What.

The.

Hell.

Sherlock turned his attention to a sticky label on the side of the table, suddenly needing to be torn up. He coughed and stuck his chest out, all masculine, and tore it into shreds, as John rose and walked purposefully to the other side of the room.

"Well, err, old chap, I, err, well, have to go! That's it! Um, I'll go say bye so we can go after. Yeah, err, I'll be downstairs." John said as he saw a vague nod from Sherlock.

The two men shook their heads as they reencountered there strange meeting. That, John thought, wasn't supposed to happen.

Then again, nothing is ever supposed to happen, it just does. It's just destiny...And who can fight that after all!

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**A/N Ok, if I was going to conjtinue this, they wouldn't end up together, so just incase you were wondering, I like Sarah and John together ;) but you can make up your own ending if you want :)**

**Thank you for sticking with me and reading and hope you all had a good christmas**


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